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LIFE AND ABVENTUEES 



OF 



CHAELES ANDERSON CHESTER, 



THK 



NOTORIOUS LEADER OF THE 

PHILADELPHIA "KILLERS." 

WHO WAS MURDERED,. WHILE ENGAGED IN THE DESTRUCTION 

OF THE CALIFORNIA HOUSE, ON ELECTION NIGHT, 

OCTOBER 11, 1849. 




Taken from a daguerreotype, previous to Chester's going to Havana. 

PRINTED FOR THE PUBLISHERS. 
-^ PHILADELPHIA. 

1850. 



•• 



LIFE AND ADVENTURES 



OF 



CH/IELES ANDEESON CHE8TE11, 



THE 



NOTORIOUS LEADER OF THE 

PHILADELPHIA "KILLEllS." 

WHO WAS MURDERED, WHILE ENGAGED IN THE DESTRUCTION 

OF THE CALIFORNIA HOUSE, ON ELECTION NIGHT, 

OCTOBER 11, 1849. 




Taken from a daguerreotype, previous to Chester's going to Havana. 



PRINTED FOR THE PUBLISHERS. 
PHILADELPHIA. 

iS50. 



• . ' . I , ' 2 r ..... 
• • • ' I '. i .' 



c? 



9 






Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1849, 

By YATES & SMITH 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Eastern District of 

Pennsylrania. 






^> 



CHARLES ANDERSON CHESTER MURDERED BY BLACK HERKLES. 




" Come on you dam Killers," he bawled, " I've stuck your bully, and 
I'm ready for de wust of you !" — page 34. 



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MAP of the City and Districts of Moyamensing and Southvrark, from the river 
Delaware to Broad street, 
t f The scene of Riot at Sixth and St. Mary streets. 



THE 



LIFE AND EXPLOITS 



OF 



CHARLES ANDERSON CHESTER. 



CHAPTER I. 



Charles Anderson Chester — His youth and parentage — Adven- 
tures at College — Letter from his Father — Flight from 
College. 

Charles Anderson Chester, the subject of this eventful narra- 
tive, was the son of a wealthy, and as the world goes, a respect- 
able parentage. His father was at once a Merchant and a 
Banker; and his mother was the daughter of a millionaire. 
Accustomed from his earliest years to all that wealth can 
offer, to pamper the appetite and deprave the passions, Ander- 
son grew to manhood with a great sense of his own import- 
ance derived from the wealth of his father. He was sent at 
the age of eighteen, from the roof of his father's splendid man- 
sion, to a New England College, " to complete his education." 
His education supposed to have been commenced at the 
University of Pennsylvania, had in reality begun at the 
Hunting Park Race Course, at the Chesnut Street gambling 
hell, the Theatre and the Brothel. At eighteen he was already 
known as a " man about town." He drove the handsomest 
turn out on Broad Street ; he played " Brag," with the oldest 
gamesters, and drank his four bottles of Champaigne with the 
most experienced of veteran drunkards. And thus initiated 
into life, he went to New England to finish his education. 

Here his career was short and brilliant. He flogged his 
tutor, attempted to set fire to the College buildings and was 
very nearly successful in an attempt to abduct the only daugh- 
ter of the President. These, with numerous minor exploits 
produced his expulsion after a brief period of six months. 

At this state of affairs Anderson knew not what to do. He 
did not like the idea of returning home. His father was a 

11 



12 CHARLES ANDERSON CHESTER. 

I 

bon vivant, — a good liver of the canvass back order, — liberal 
at times, — but again as obstinate as the pride of money, and 
the habit of commanding men's lives with the power of money, 
could make him. He was withal a nominal member of a 
wealthy Cliurch. He might possibly wink at Anderson's 
Collegiate exploits, and .term them the effusions of a " spirited 
nature" winding up with a check for a $1000, or he might 
bid his son to go to sea, to list in the army, or go to a place 
not mentioned to ears polite. What would be his course ? 
Anderson could not tell. 

He was sitting in his room, at the crack hotel of the College 
town, when he received his father's letter. He had spent his 
last dollar. He was in arrears for board. He was beset by 
duns, duns of every shape from the waiter to the washer- 
woman. While meditating over the state of affairs he received 
his father's letter. It was terse and to the point. 

Sir: — You have made your bed and you must lie down in 
it. Expect nothing from me. You can choose your own 
course. At the same time, you will distinctly understand, that 
by your conduct you have cast off all claims upon your 
family, who desire to hear nothing from you until you are 
sincerly repentent for the disgrace which your behaviour has 
heaped upon them. 

Jacob Chester. 

This was not a very fatherly letter it must be confessed, 
though the conduct of Anderson had been bad enough. He 
read it over and over again — held it near the light until the 
glare played over his face, corrugated by silent rage, — and 
after a few moments consigned it to his vest pocket. 

All was still in the hotel. He at once determined upon his 
plan. Dressing himself in a green walking coat trimmed with 
metal buttons, plaid pants and buff vest, Anderson walked 
quietly from his room, and as quietly left the hotel at the dead 
hour of the night. He left without " bag or baggage," and 
striking over the fields, through a driving mist, he made his 
way to a railway station distant some five miles. The pas- 
sions of a demon were working in his heart, for the manner in 
which hi-s father had winked at his early faults, only served to 
render his letter more intolerable and galling. 
• How he obtained passage in the cars we cannot tell. 
Suffice it to say, that after two days he landed in Philadelphia, 
his apparel dusty and way-worn, and his shirt collar hidden 
ominously behind the folds of his black cravat. 

He was tall for his age. His chin already was darkened 
by a beard that would not have shamed a Turk. Light com- 



FLIGHT FROM COLLEGE, ETC. 13 

plexioned and fair haired, he was the very figure to strike the 
eye on Chesnut street, or annid the buz and uproar of a ball. 

Dusty',' tired and hungry, he made the best of his way to his 
father's mansion. He was determined to have an interview 
with the old man. Stepping up the marble stair case, he rung 
the bell, and stood for a few moments with a fluttering heart. 
A strange servant answered the bell, and greeted him with the 
news, " that Mr. Chester and his family had left for Cape May 
the week before." 

This was bad news for Anderson. Turning from his 
father's house, he sauntered listlessly toward the Exchange, 
until he came near his father's store, — a dark old brick build- 
ing, standing sullen and gloomy amid fasiiionable dwellings of 
modern construction. He entered the counting room. It was 
situated at the farther end of a large gloomy place, and was 
fenced off from bales of goods, and hogsheads of cogniac, by 
a dingy railing of unpainted pine. 



CHAPTER II. 

Mr. Smick the head clerk — The check for $5,000 — Charles con- 
trives a scheme — Its result — Interview with a certain personage 
which has an important bearing on his fate — The British 
Captain. 

** Where is Mr. Smick ?" asked Anderson of the negro porter, 
who was the only person visible. 

" Jist gone out," answered the porter, who did not recog- 
nize his employer's son, " Back d'rectly. 

" I'll wait for him," was the answer, and Anderson saun- 
tered into the counting room, which was furnished with an 
old chair, a large desk and range of shelves filled with led- 
gers, etc. 

An opened letter, spread upon the desk, attracted the eye 
of the hopeful youth. It was from Cape May, bore the signa- 
ture of his father, was addressed to Mr. Smick his head clerk, 
and contained this brief injuntion. — 

" Smick — I send you a check for $5,000. Cash it, and meet 
that note of Johns & Brother — to-morrow — you understand." 

"Where the deuce is the check?" soliloquized Anderson, 
and forthwith began to search for it, but in vain. While thus 
engaged his ear was attracted by the sound of a footstep. 
Looking through the railing he beheld a short little man with 
a round face and a hooked nose, approaching at a brisk pace 
As he saw him, his fertile mind, hit upon a plan of operations. 



14 CHARLES ANDERSON CHESTER. 

" Smick my good fellow," he said as the head clerk opened 
the door of the counting-room — "I've been looking for you all 
over town. Quick ! At Walnut street wharf! There's no 
lime to be lost !" 

He spoke these incoherent words with every manifestation 
of alarm and terror. As much surprised at the sudden appear- 
ance of the vagabond son in the counting room, as at his 
hurried words, the head clerk was for a few moments at a loss 
for words. 

" You here — umph ! Thought you was at college — eh !" 
exclaimed Smick as soon as he found his tongue — " Walnut 
street wharf! What do you mean '?" 

" Mr. Smick," responded the young man slowly and with 
deliberation, "I mean that on returning from Cape May father 
has been stricken with an apopletic fit. He's on board of the 
boat. Mother sent me up here, to tell you to come down 
without delay. Quick I No time's to be lost." 

Smick seemed thunderstricken. He placed his finger on the 
lip of his nose, muttering " Chester struck with apoplexy — 
bad, bad ! Here's this check to be cashed, and that note of 
Johns & Brother to be met. What shall I do — " 

" I'll tell you Smick. Give me the check — I'll get it cashed 
and then go and take up the note, while you hurry down to 
the wharf" 

He said this in quite a confidential manner, laying his hand 
on Smick's arm and looking very knowingly into his face. 

In answer to this, Mr. Smick closed one eye — arranged his 
white cravat — and seemed buried in thought, while Charles 
stood waiting with evident impatience for his answer. 

" You've been to Cape May — have you ?" he said, regarding 
Charles with one eye closed. 

" You know I have not. I have just got on from New 
York, and met one of father's servants, as I was coming oflf 
the boat. He told me the old gentleman had been taken with 
apoplexy on the way up. I went into the cabin of the Cape 
May boat which had just come to, and saw father there. 
Mother gave me the message which I have just delivered. 
Indeed, Mr. Smick you'd better hurry." 

" Then you had better take the check," said Smick extending 
his hand. " Get it cashed and take up that note. It is now 
half past two, it must be done without delay." 

His eyes glistening Charles reached forth his hand to grasp 
the check, when Mr. Smick drew back his hand, quietly observ- 
ing at the same time " I think Charles you had better ask your 
father. Here he is. Rather singular that he's so soon re- 
covered from his fit of apoplexy!" 

Scarcely had the words passed his lips, when at his shoulder, 



.CHARLES CONTRIVES A SCHEME. 15 

appeared the portly figure of the father, — Mr. Jacob Chester, 
a gentleman of some fifty years, dressed in black with a white 
waistcoat. His ruddy face was overspread with a scowl ; he 
regarded his son with a glance full of meaning, at the same 
time passing his kerchief incessaHtly over his bald crown. 
He had overheard the whole of the conversation between his 
son and his head clerk. He had indeed returned from Cape 
May, but had seen his clerk, only five minutes previous to this 
interview. His feelings as he overheard the conversation may 
be imagined. 

" Scoundrel !" was his solitary ejaculation, as he gazed upon 
his son, who now stood cowering and abashed, in one corner 
of the counting room. 

" Father — " hesitated Charles. 
The merchant pointed to the door. 
" Go !" he said, and motioned with his finger. 
" Forgive me father, — I've been wild. I know it," faltered 
Charles. 

" You saw me in a fit, did you ? And you would have got 
that check cashed and taken up Johns' note, would you 1 
You're a bigger scoundrel than I took you for. Go !" 

Charles moved to the door. While Snjick stood thunder- 
stricken, the father followed his son into the large room, 
which, filled with hogsheads and bales, intervened between 
the counting-room and the street. Charles quietly threaded 
his way through the gloomy place, and was passing to the 
street when his father's hand stopped him on the thres- 
hold. 

" Charles," said he, " let us understand one another." 
Charles turned with surprise pictured on his face; the coun- 
tenance of his father was fraught with a meaning which he 
could not analyze. 

" In the first place," said the Merchant, " read this." 
He handed his son a copy of the New York Herald, dated 
the day previous. The finger of Mr. Jacob Chester pointed 
a paragraph embodied in a letter from Cape May. Charles 
read in silence, his face displaying every change of increduli- 
ty succeeded by surprise. Thus read the paragraph : 

" By the by you have heard that a distinguished scion of 
the British aristocracy, who passes under the title of the Hon. 
Capt. Fritz-Adam, has been figuring rather extensively at this 
place. The Captain is a gallant gentleman, with a pale 
mouse coloured moustache and aristocratic air. He has 
excited quite a sensation. He is altogether a man of ton — 
elegant and fascinating; so much so, that yesterday the young 
wife of one of our old Philadelphia merchants was detected in 
a rather embarrassing situation, with the gallant Briton, and 



16 CHARLES ANDERSON CHESTER. 

worst of all, the discoverer was her venerable spouse. The 
affair has created a great talk. To-morrow I will send you 
full particulars." 

"Well, what of this?" said Charles looking into his father's 
face. 

" Nothing much. Only that young wife of an old merchant, 
was your mother. I married her at sixteen; married her 
out of regard for her family, and have lived with her these 
nineteen years. She is now about thirty-five, but as young 
and lively as ever. The day before yesterday she disgraced 
me at Cape May, and strengthened a resolve which I have 
long indulged, to wit, to cast her and her son to the winds, or 

to the d 1. You comprehend Charles 1 You are not my 

son. The conduct of your mother breaks all ties between us. 
For nineteen years I have supported you. You can gamble, 
drink, and act the gentleman in every way. Your education 
is complete. My advice to you, is, to follow you mother, 
who yesterday eloped with her British Captain. From me, 
from this hour, you can expect nothing. Beg, starve, or 
steal, as you please, do it in a gentlemanly way if you like, 
but from me you shall never receive one cent. We under- 
stand one another. Good day, sir." 

With these words the old man turned away, leaving Charles 
pale and thunderstricken on the threshhold. The thunderbolt 
which had fallen upon him, deprived him for the time of all 
control over his reason. He was stupefied 



CHAPTER HI. 

Mr. Joe Bright and the letters — A peep into important corres- 
pondence — Mr. Wilmins the Broker — Drafts for $5060 — 
New York and Havana. 

At last, still holding the New York Herald in his hand, he 
took his way from Mr. Jacob Chester's store. As he 
passed along the street, he tried, for a long time without suc- 
cess, to realize his situation. His mother a disgraced woman 
— himself pronounced an illegitimate by the man whom he 
had always known as his father — he could not believe it. 
But the New York Herald was in his hands, the words of the 
old Merchant still rang in his ears. Then when he contrasted 
the youth of his mother with the age of her husband, her 
fondness for admiration and show with the painstaking habits 



MR. JOE BRIGHT AND THE LETTERS. 17 

of the merchant, the story appeared more reasonable. A 
thousand things came to the memory of Charles, which served 
to confirm the story of Mr. Jacob Chester. Suffice it to say 
that after an hour's walk up one street and down another, 
Charles found himself at the corner of Fourth and Walnut 
street with three facts impressed rather vividly upon his 
mind. He was without a father; his mother had eloped with 
a mustache (appended to a British Captain) and he, Charles 
Anderson Chester, was without a cent in the world. 

Charles surveyed his apparel. Green coat, plaid pants and 
buff vest looked remarkably seedy. He felt his pocket. They 
were deplorably empty. He looked up and down Walnut 
street, as night began to gather over the town, and brought 
himself to the conclusion, expressed in these words, muttered 
through his set teeth — " Without father or mother, friend or 
dollar, my chance of a bed and supper to night gets dim and 
dimmer." 

In this mood he took his way toward the Exchange. He 
was roused from a reverie by a hand laid on his arm, and by 
the words, " How d'ye do. Mister Charles." 

Starting from his gloomy reverie, Charles beheld a youth of 
some fourteen years, whose snub nose and red hair, together 
with nankeen pants and cassimere jacket, brought home to him 
the fact, that he beheld no less a personage than Mr. Joe. 
Bright, who was employed in a double capacity, — half as 
errand boy and half as under clerk — in his father's store. 
Joe was delighted to see Mr. Charles, — asked him when he had 
arrived in the city — how long he intended to stay, et cetera. 
As for Charles quietly keeping his eye upon the youth, who 
held a package in his right hand, he said: 

" Give me the letters Joe. I'll take them up to the house. 
As for you, father wants you to go up to the Baltimore Rail 
Road Depot, and bring down a box that is there, addressed to 
him. Just tell the Agent that father sent you, and he'll give 
you the box. Mind that you hurry bacL" 

Without a word the red haired youth handed the letters to 
Mr. Charles, and hurried up Walnut street, on his way to 
Eleventh & Market. Charles slipped the letters into his 
pocket, gazed for a moment after the form of the errand boy, 
and then hurrying down Walnut street, turned into a "pot 
house" whose sign displayed tempting inducements to " sailors 
and emigrants." It was a miserable place, with one chair, a 
bar, and a little man, with a dirty face and one eye. 
" What'll yez plase to have, Sur?" 

Charles called for a glass of whiskey, and turning his back 
to the landlord, drew the package from his pocket and prO' 
ceeded to count the letters which he had received from Joe. 



18 CHARLES ANDERSON CHESTER. 

There were ten in all ; one was particularly heavy ; and all 
of them were carefully sealed. Did one, or did all of them 
contain money 1 This was an important question, but Charles 
did not choose to solve it in the pot house. But how shall he 
pay for his glass of whiskey 1 He had not a penny in the 
world. This placed him in a decidedly bad predicament. 
Waiting until the landlord had turned his back, for a moment, 
Charles passed quietly from the place, and hurried up Walnut 
street, turned into Dock, and in a few moments was in Third 
street in the vicinity of Chesnut. 

He had decided upon a difficult step. The letters which he 
held, bore the postmarks of distant parts of the Union, and 
very possibly they contained drafts upon houses in New York. 
It was his resolution to ascertain the fact in the first place and 
in the second to get these drafts cashed. It was after bank 
hours, and only two broker's offices in the vicinity remained 
open. Charle's brain was in a whirl ; conscious that whatever 
he did must be done without delay, he stood on the sidewalk, 
with his finger raised to his forehead, anxiously engaged in 
cogitating some scheme, which might enable him to cash the 
drafts in the letters, — that is, if said letters happened to contain 
drafts, or money in any shape. 

But was this the case? Charles turned into an alley and 
with a trembling hand broke the seals of the letters. His brain 
reeled as thier contents were disclosed to his gloating eyes. 
For those letters did contain drafts at one two and three days 
sight, drawn upon certain firms in New York, and amounting 
altogether to five thousand and sixty dollars. Crumpling the 
letters drafts and all into his pocket, Charles staggered from 
the alley like a drunken man. He had resolved upon his course 
of action. Entering a small periodical agency, he called for 
pen and paper, and (while the boy in attendance was waiting 
upon a customer) our hero, proceeded in quite a business like 
manner to sign the name of " Jacob Chester" upon each of 
those talismanic slips of paper. Habit had made him familiar 
with his late father's signature ; he wrote with ease and facility ; 
in a few moments the work was done. He carefullv sanded 
the signatures, and then made the best of his way to the office 
of a celebrated Broker, with whom his father had dealt for 
many years. On the threshold he paused ; his heart beat like 
the pendulum of a clock ; gazing through the glass door he 
beheld the familiar lace of the Broker, bald-head, high shirt 
collar, gold spectacles and all. For a moment the young gen- 
tleman hesitated ; at length commanding all the force of his 
nerves he entered, and spreading the magic slips of paper upon 
the counter, said with great selt-possession, " Mister Wilmins, 



MR. WILMINS THE BKOKER. 19 

father starts for Niagara early in the morning. He would 
take it as a favour, if you would cash these drafts to-night." 

The Broker recognized Charles, addressed him by name, 
and after a word or two as to his father's health, examined 
the drafts, first one side and then the other. This done, he 
paused, and surveyed Charles through his gold spectacles. 
Charles never forgot that scrutinizing gaze. " He suspects 
something," he muttered to himself, while, in fact, the worthy 
Broker, who was somewhat absent-minded, was, cogitating 
whether or no he should ask Charles as to the truth of that 
story about the British Captain. 

" Five thousand and sixty dollars," said the Broker. 

" Can you do it ?" gasped Charles, much agitated, but endea- 
vouring to look as calm as possible. 

"Certainly," was the answer. "Would your father like 
city or New York funds ?' 

" As you please," faltered Charles, " only he wanted a thou- 
sand in twenties." 

The Broker unlocked his iron-safe and counted out five 
thousand and sixty dollars; forty $100 bills, and the balance 
in $20 notes ; Charles watching him all the while with a 
feverish eye. 

Charles extended his hand, and could scarce believe the 
evidence of his senses, when he felt the silken slips of paper 
between his fingers. He thrust them into his breast pocket, 
and hurried to the door. 

" Ah ! come back, young man," he heard the voice of the 
Broker. 

It was the first impulse of Charles to put to his heels, but 
turning with a pallid face, he again confronted the spectacled 
Broker. 

" Young man — that is, Mr. Chester," began the Broker, 
" If its not impolite I'd like to ask you one question." 

Charles shook in " his boots," but managed to falter out the 
monosyllable, " Well ?" 

" Is there any truth in that story — eh, eh — about the Brit — 
British Captain — and — " he paused. 

Charles raised his handkerchief to his eye, and in a voice 
broken by emotion, faltered — 

" Too true ! Alas ! It is too true !" and as if overcome by 
his feeling hastened from the Broker's store. 

Making the best of his way down Third, he struck into 
Dock street, and then turned down Walnut street. As he 
approached the corner of Front and Walnut street, he heard 
the ring of a bell. Utterly bewildered by the incidents of the 
last hour, he was hurrying at random, — he knew not whither 



20 CHARLES ANDERSON CHESTER. 

— when the ringing of the bell decided him, as to his future 
course. 

" It's the New York bell !" he muttered, and in five minutes 
had purchased his ticket, and was on board the steamboat, on 
his way to New York. 

That night at ten he landed at the foot of Courtlandt street. 
Without pausing to eat or sleep, he proceeded to a barber 
shop and had his face cleanly shaved. Then, in an hour's 
ramble he provided himself with a large trunk, a black wig, a 
pair of false whiskers, and two suits of clothes. He assumed 
the wig and whiskers in the street ; put on a single breasted 
frock coat, buttoning to the neck, in a tailor's store ; covered 
his forehead with a glazed cap, and then calling a hack 
directed the driver to take his trunk to Bloodgood's Hotel. 

He entered his name on the books in this style, " Alfred 
DuFRENAY, Chicago." 

His next care was to look at the New York Sun of that 
date. The shipping advertisements first arrested his attention. 
One in especial rivetted his eye. He perused it attentively, 
and presently sallied from the Hotel, called a cab, and directed 
the driver to carry him, in " double quick time," to the 
Battery. Arrived at this point, he took a boat, and rowed out 
into the stream, and was presently on board of a steamer 
which lay at anchor in the bay. He saw the Captain, paid 
his fare, despatched a messenger for his trunks, and before 
morning was fifty miles beyond Sandy Hook on his way to 
Havana. 

On the second day of her passage the steamer spoke a 
vessel bound for Philadelphia. Letters were exchanged, and 
Charles took this opportunity to send the following to his late 
father : 

Venerable Sir : — You told me to follow my mother. I am 
after her. 

Your obedient son, 

Charles Anderson Chester. 
P. S. — Hope those drafts came to hand? 

This letter reached his father, at the very moment, when he 
was sitting over his wine, engaged in conversation with the 
Broker, who was calmly endeavouring to convince him, tha< 
certain drafts which he held, bore the signature of "Jacob 
(Fibster." 

And here, while the son is on his way to Havana, and the 
father and the Broker are talking together, we will leave oui 
characters, while two years pass away. These events 
occurred in 1846 ; it is 1849 when we again resume our story 



OPHELIA THOMPSON, THE " SUPERNUMARY." 21 

Between these years Mr. Jacob Chester failed, and it was 
rumoured in Philadelphia, in the summer of 1849, that his son 
had returned to that city, in disguise, on business connected 
with the celebrated Cubian expedition. 



CHAPTER IV. 



Ophelia Thompson — Tlie " Supernumary " — How she was follow- 
ed and what was the result. 

In the month of October 1849, a young woman, who was con- 
nected with one of the Theatres in a subordinate capacity, ex- 
cited considerable attention, on the part of those gentlemen 
who prowl about the stage seeking " whom they may devour." 
We allude to that class of persons, young and old, who insult 
respectable women in the street, parade opera glasses in the 
pit, while the dancing is in progress, and hang around the 
green room, where the actors congregate when their presence 
is not needed upon the stage. 

This young woman was altogether a subordinate ; she did 
not appear in any leading character, but was seen as an 
assistant in the ballet ; or as a part of some dramatic spectacle; 
in fact, she was what is generally denominated " a super- 
numary." She was about eighteen years of age ; rather tall, 
was known by the name of Ophelia Thompson ; with brown 
hair, dark eyes, a noble bust, and a walk that would not have 
disgraced an empress. She was new to the stage. Who or 
what she was, no one knew ; not even the manager who paid 
her 37i cents per night, for her services in the ballet and spec- 
tacle. She had only been engaged a week, in October 1849, 
when her beauty made considerable buz among the libertines 
of the pit, and the loungers of the green room. Her modest 
manner, and her evident desire to remain unobserved and un- 
known, only whetted the curiosity of these vultures who prey 
upon female beauty and innocence. 

One night, however, as winding her faded shawl about her 
shoulders, and drawing her green veil over her face, she left 
the Theatre, on her way to her unknown home ; she was 
followed, — at a discreet distance-— by one of those gentlemen 
of the character named above. He was rather portly ; wore 



32 CHARLES ANDERSON CHESTER. 

a hangup which concealed the lower part of his face, and 
carried a large bone headed stick. The object of his pursuit 
led him a devious chase. Up one street and down another, 
now passing through narrow alleys, and now along the streets, 
she hurried on, until at last she reached a small frame house, 
which stood at the extremity of a dark court, in that district 
somewhat widely known as " Moyamensing." A lamp stand- 
ing at the entrance of the court, emitted a faint and dismal 
light. When she reached the lamp she paused, and looked 
around her, as though she was conscious or afraid that she 
had been followed. The gentleman with the big stick saw her 
turn, and skulked behind a convenient corner, in time to avoid 
her observation. In a moment she resumed her way and 
entered the frame tenement, from the window of which, a 
faint light shone out upon the pavement. The portly gentle- 
men stole cautiously to the window, took one glance and then 
crouched against the door of the house. That glance how- 
ever, had revealed to him, a small room miserably furnished, 
with an old woman sitting near a smouldering fire, and a 
young one — '• the supernumary " of the Theatre — standing by 
her side, one hand laid upon a pine table and the other raised 
as if in the act of expostulation. 

The portly gentlemen did his best to overhear the conver- 
sation which took place between the two. Pressing his ear 
against a chink of the door, and balancing himself with his 
stick as he knelt on one knee, he managed to overhear a por- 
tion of the following conversation. 

" So you've come, — have you "?" said the old woman, in a 
voice between a grunt and a growl. 

" Yes, mother. And there's my week's salary — just two 
dollars and a quarter." 

" Two dollars and a quarter ! And how's a-body as is old 
and has the rheumatiz, to live on two dollars and a quarter?" 

" Mother I do all that I can, I'm sure. I'd earn more if I 
could." 

" Bah ! If you only know'd what's what, you might earn a 
heap I tell you. Here since your father's been dead, — killed 
by fallin' off a buildin' two years ago — I've had all the keer 
of you and tuk in washin'. when you was goin' to school. And 
now when you're grow'd up and kin do somethin' for your 
mother, why you don't do it. 

" What can I do mother ?" said the young woman, in a 
voice of entreaty. 

The old woman replied with a sound between a cough and 
a laugh as she said. 

" What kin you do 1 Why if I was young and handsom' 
and had a foot and a face like yourn, — and danced at the 



HOW SHE WAS FOLLOWED AND WHAT WAS THE RESULT. 23 

Theater, I'd show you, what / could do. Ain't there plenty 
of rich gentlemen, as 'ud be glad to pay you your weight in 
goold if — 

The rest of the sentence was lost in a whisper, but the gen- 
tlemen in the big stick who listened at the door, heard the 
reply of the girl, which consisted in a simple ejaculation, 
uttered in a tone of reproach and shame. 

" My God, mother !" 

" Yes, it is easy to say my God, mother!" replied the old 
woman mimicking her daughter, " But if you only had the 
spunk of a lobster you might roll in goold an' be a great 
actress an' — what not !" 

The listener did not wait for another word, but pushing open 
the door, entered the apartment. The old woman looked up 
in surprise, her haggard face looking almost ghastly, by lamp 
light, while the daughter (who had thrown her bonnet and 
shawl aside) gazed upon the intruder in evident alarm. 

" Don't mind me, my good friends, don't mind me," said the 
portly gentleman, in a thick voice, as he approached the table ; 
" I'm a friend, that's all. Have seen your daughter on the 
stage, and would like to make a great actress of her. Will 
take charge of her tuition. That can't be managed without 
money, but money's no object to me." 

And stepping between the mother and daughter he laid five 
bright gold pieces upon the pine table. 

" Here's luck !" screached the old woman, grasping for the 
money. 

" What say you ?" asked the portly gentleman addressing 
the daughter. 

" I — don't — know — you — sir — " she exclaimed with a proud 
curl of the lip, as her bosom swelled under its shabby covering. 
At the same time she wrenched the money from her mother's 
grasp. •' Take your money, sir." 

There was something queenly in the look of the young 
woman, as with her form swelling to its full stature, she 
regarded the intruder with a look of withering scorn, extending 
his gold pieces in one hand and at the same time pointing to 
the door. 

" The very thing ! That voice would do honor to Fanny 
Kemble ! I tell you Miss that nature cut you out for an 
actress — a great actress." 

" So nature' did," exclaimed the old woman, rising from 
her chair — " Take the money girl, and let this gentleman make 
a great actress of you." 

" Either yojj must leave the house or I will," said the girl, 
and dashing the gold pieces into the face of the portly gentle- 
man, she retreated behind the table, her eye flashing and her 



24 CHARLES ANDERSON CHESTER. 

bosom swelling with anger. This action rather disconcerted 
the gentleman. Retreating backward, and bowing at the 
same time, he stumbled over the threshold, and gathered him- 
self up, in time to receive the gold pieces in his face a second 
time, from the hand of the girl. 

She had gathered them from the floor, in defiance of the 
objurgations of her mother, who earnestly sought to retain only 
a single piece. 



CHAPTER V. 



The old woman and Mr. Jacob Chester — ICs a bargain. 

"Now mother," said the girl closing the door, and placing her 
hand firmly on the old woman's shoulder, "if I hear, after 
this, one word from your lips, like those you have spoken to- 
night, we part forever." 

Her flashing eye and deep-toned voice impressed the old 
woman with a sensation between rage and fear. But ere she 
could frame a reply, her daughter had gone up stairs, and the 
old woman heard a sound like the closing of a bolt. 

" One of her tantrums. When things don't go right, she 
goes to bed without supper and locks herself in. Lor' how 
they brings up children now-a-days !" 

For a long time she sat in silence, stretching her withered 
hands over the fire ; at length she took the light and hobbling 
to the door unlocked it, and went out into the court. Bending 
down, the light extended in her skinny fingers and playing 
over her haggard face, she groped in the mud and filth for the 
gold pieces, which her daughter had flung into the face of the 
portly gentleman. «. 

" Won,'^ she mumbled seizing a bright object which sparkled 
in the mud, when a hand touched her lightly on the arm, and 
looking up she saw the portly gentleman at her side. 

He pointed to the door of the frame house, and led the way. 
She followed, and after closing the street door and the door 
which opened on the stairway, they sat down together and 
conversed for a long time in whispers, the old woman's face 
manifesting a feverish lust for gain, while the portly gentleman 
suflTered his coat collar to fall on his shoulders, until his face 



THE OLD WOMAN AND MR. JACOB CHESTER. 25 

was visible. He next removed his hat. It was the face of 
Mr. Jacob Chester, bald-head, white cravat and all, — a little 
older than when we last beheld him — yet with a bright twinkle 
in his eyes, and a sort of amorous grin upon his lips. They 
conversed for a long time and the termination of the conversa- 
tion was in these words : — 

" To-morrow night as she is going to the theatre," said Mr. 
Jacob — '-It is election night and the streets will be full of 
bonfires and devilment. She can be seized at the corner of 
the street, put into a cab which I have ready, and kept quiet 
until her temper is a little managable." 

He laid some bank notes and bright gold pieces upon the 
table, which the old woman seized with a hungry grasp as she 
replied : — 

" Yes, and Black Herkles is the man to do it. Have every- 
thing ready, and it kin be done. You'd better see Herkles, he 
keeps a groggery at the corner of the Court." 

Mr, Jacob rose, and bidding the dame good night, pro- 
ceeded to the " Hotel" of a huge negro, who went by the 
name of Black Herculus or " Herkles," in the more familiar 
dialect of Moyamensing. Picking his way through the dark- 
ness, he presently entered a low and narrow room, filled with 
stench and smoke, with negroes, men, women, and children 
huddled together in one corner, and a bar in the other, behind 
which stood the negro himself deaHng out whiskey to a cus- 
tomer. The scene was lighted by three tallow candles stuck 
in as many porter bottles. The negro was a huge burly 
fellow, black as the ace of spades, with a mouth like a gash, 
a nose that looked as if it had been trodden upon, and fists 
that might have felled an ox. The customer was a white man, 
rather tall and muscular, dressed in a miserable suit of grey 
rags, with his hair worn long before his ears, and a greasy 
cloth cap drawn low over his forehead. 

"This 'ere whiskey burns like real ," grunted the 

customer, concluding his sentence with a blasphemous expres- 
sion. 

" Dat it does. It am de rale stuff"— hot as pepper an' brim- 
stone." i-fter these words " the loafer" in grey rags stretched 
himself on the floor, and our worthy gentleman approached 
the negro. A few words sufficed to put the negro in posses- 
sion of the object of Mr. Jacob Chester's visit. He grinned 
horribly as the worthy man bent over the counter, and com- 
municated his desire in a confiding whisper. 

" Dars my hand on it," he said, " for a small matter o' fifty 
dollars. Brae Herkles put twenty gals in a cab." 

" To-morrow night, remember. The old lady's agreeable 



261' CHARLES ANDERSON CHESTER. 

and I'll have the cab at the street corner. There's twenty- 
five on account." 

" Y-a-s sah ; dats de talk," responded the negro grasping 
the money. 

" Who's that fellow ?" whispered Mr. Jacob, touching with 
his foot the prostrate form of the " loafer," who by this time 
was snoring lustily. 

" Dat, — eh, dat 1 I raly dono his name — but he's a 
Killer." 

This seemed perfectly satisfactory to Mr. Jacob who left 
the groggery and made the best of his way homeward. After 
his visitor had gone, the negro approached the prostrate 
loafer, and kicked him with his splay foot. 

"Get out o' dis. Dis aint no place for you dam white 
trash." 



CHAPTER VI. 



The mysterious Sign — One man followed by twenty — The 
Leader of the Killers — The Den of the Killers. 

The loafer arose grumbling, and lounged lazily to the door, 
which the Black Herkles closed after him, with the objurga- 
tion — " De dam Killers; dar room is better as dar company." 

No sooner, however, had the loafer passed from the grog- 
gery into the Court than his lazy walk changed into a brisk 
stride, his head rose on his shoulders, and he seemed to have 
become in a moment altogether a new man. 

He passed from the Court into the street, where a couple 
of ruftian-iike men, stood beneath the light of the street lamp. 
As he approached them, he made a sign with his ight hand, 
and the two ruffians followed him like dogs oL 'ying the 
whistle of a master. Along the dark and deserted street the 
loafer pursued his way, until he came to the corner of a well 
known street leading from the Delaware to the Schuylkill; a 
street which, by the bye, was lighted at every five yards by a 
groggery or a beer-shop. At the corner and near the door of 
every groggery stood groups of men or half-grown boys — 
sometimes two and sometimes three or four in a group. The 
loafer passed them all, repeating the sign which he had given 
to the first two ruffians. And the sign the men and half-grown 



THE MYSTERIOUS SIGN. 27 

boys fell quietly in his wake ; by the time he had gone half a 
square he was followed by at least twenty persons, who 
tracked his footsteps without a word. For a quarter of an 
hour they walked on, the silence only broken by the shuffling 
of their feet. At length arriving before an unfinished three 
story brick building (unfinished on account of the numerous 
riots which have so long kept the District of Moyamensing 
in a panic) they silently ranged themselves around the 
" Loafer" whose sign they had followed. 

" All Killers ?" he said, anxiously scanning the visage of 
the ruffians, boys and men, who were only dimly perceptible 
by the star light. 

" Ail Killers," was the answer. 

The " Loafer" jumped through the open cellar door of the 
unfinished house and in a moment was followed by the twenty. 
Scrambling through the dark cellar, they ascended in silence 
into the upper rooms of the unfinished house, and in a few 
minutes entered an apartment on the third floor. Jt was 
brilliantly lighted by a number of candles stuck into porter 
bottles. The walls were black with tobacco smoke, and orna- 
mented with numerous devices, such as, " Go it Killers ! 
Death to the Bouncers! Killers, No. L — Killers No. 2, 
etcetra. The place was without chair, table, or furniture of 
any kind. The porter bottles containing the candles were 
placed at various distances along the uncarpeted floor. 
Around each candle, seated on the floor, was a group of men 
and boys, who were drinking whiskey, playing cards and 
smoking and swearing like so many steam-engines. 

This was the " Den of the Killers." 

And into this foul den, entered the " Loafer," succeeded by 
his twenty followers. He was hailed with a shout, " Hurrah 
for Dick Hellfire, Captain of the Killers !" He answered the 
shout in as hearty a manner, and then flinging a couple of 
dollars on the floor added, " Some more rum boys ! We may 
as well make a night of it." 

Then looking beneath the front of his cap he silently sur- 
veyed " the Killers." They were divided into three classes — 
beardless apprentice boys who after a hard day's work were 
turned loose upon the street at night, by their masters or 
bosses. Young men of nineteen and twenty, who fond of ex- 
citement, had assumed the name and joined the gang for the 
mere fun of the thing, and who would either fight for a man 
or knock him down, just to keep their .hand in; and fellows 
with countenances that reminded of the brute and devil well 
intermingled. These last were the smallest in number, but 
the most ferocious of the three. These, the third class, not 
more than ten in number, were the very worst specimens of 



28 CHARLES ANDERSON CHESTER. 

the savage of the large city. Brawny fellows, with faces em- 
bruted by hardship, rum and crime; they were "just the boys" 
to sack a Theatre or burn a Church. 

It was to these that Dick Hellfire, the leader of the Killers 
addressed himself. 

" Come lieutenants, let's go into the next room. While the 
boys have their fun here, we'll cut out some work for to- 
morrow. To-morrow's 'lection day." 

The eleven ruffians rose at his bidding and following him 
into the next room, the foremost carrying a porter bottle in his 
hand. There were pieces of carpet huddled up in the corners; 
there were the beds of the lieutenants, and in this room they 
slept during the day, after a night of riot and drunkenness. 
Taking his position in the centre of the room, with the eleven 
ruffians around him, Dick Hellfire surveyed the hang dog faces 
in silence, for a few moments, and then began : 

" In a week my boys we'll start for Cuba. Cuba, gold and 
Spanish women, that's our motto ! You know that I'm in 
communication with some of the heads of the expedition ; I 
was told to pick out the most desperate devils I could find in 
Moyamensin'. I've done so. You've signed your names, and 
received your first month's pay. In a week you'll go on to 
New York with me, and then hurrah for Cuba, gold and 
Spanish women !" 

" Hurrah for Cuba, gold and Spanish women !" was the 
chorus. 

Dick Hellfire raised his cap, and displayed a sunburnt face, 
encircled by sandy whiskers, and with the marks or scar of a 
frightful wound under the left eye. There was a kind of fero- 
cious beauty about that countenance. It was the face of a 
man of twenty-three, who had seen and suffered much, and 
known life on land and sea, in brothel and bar room, and per- 
haps in the Jail. 

" But to-morrow night is election night, and we may as well , 
make a raise before we go." This sentiment was greeted with 
a chorus of oaths. 

" To make a long story short boys, to-morrow night, a rich 
nabob of Walnut street, who has failed for $200,000 ; and who 
carries a great part of his money about him, in fear of his credi- 
tors, wlio would lay hold of houses or lands if he owned either 
— to-morrow night, this nabod, comes down to that groggery 
kept by the big nigger — " 

" Black Herkles ! D — n him," said two voices in a breath. 

" He's coming their on some dirty work. Now I move that 
we set a portion of our gang to raise the devil among the 
niggers of Mary street, while we watch for the nabob and get 
hold of him, and bring him to our den." 



THE GREAT RIOT ON ELECTION NIGHT. 



29 



This sentiment met with a unanimous response. Placing 
the candle on the floor, Dick squatted beside it, and motioned 
to the others to follow his example. Presently a circle of 
" gallows " faces, surrounded the light, with the sunburnt and 
seamed visage of Dick Hellfire, in the centre. 

" He carries some two or three thousand dollars about 
him," said Dick. " His name is Jacob Chester. Now follow 
my directions. You Bob will take care and get a police officer 
or two to help our gang to raise a muss among the niggers. 
You Jake will head one half of the boys, and first raise an 
alarm of fire. You Tom will come with me, and hang around 
Black Herkles groggery to-morrow night after dark. Let's 
understand one another." 

And while he communicated his directions, the shouts and 
songs of the Killers in the next room, came through the parti- 
tion, like the yells of so many Texian hunters about to charge 
a detachment of rancheroes. 



CHAPTER VII. 

The Great Riot on Election JVighf, Philadelphia, October 1849. 

The Killers. 

Election night, October 11, 18 49, presented a busy scene in 
the city and districts of Philadelphia. Bonfires were blazing 
in every street, crowds of voters collected around every poll, 
and every groggery and bar-room packed with drunken men. 
The entire city and county was astir. And a murmer arose 
from the city, through the stillness of night, like the tramp of 
an immense army. 

There was one district however which presented the details 
of an excitement altogether peculiar to itself. It was that 
district which partly comprised in the City proper, and partly 
in Moyamensing is filled with groggeries, huts, and dens of 
every grade of pollution, as thick and foul as insects in a 
tainted cheese. Occupied by many hard working and honest 
people, the District has for two years been the scene of per- 
petual outrage. Here, huddled in rooms thick with foul air, and 
drunk with poison that can be purchased for a-penny a glass, 
you may see white and black, young and old, men and women, 
cramped together in crowds that fester with wretchedness, 
disease and crime. This mass of misery and starvation affords 
a profitable harvest to a certain class of " hangers on of the 
law" who skulk about the offices of Aldermen, trade in licenses 



30 CHARLES ANDERSON CHESTER. 

and do the dirty work which prominent politicians do not care 
to do for themselves. 

Through this district, at an early hour on the night of elec- 
tion, a furniture car, filled with blazing tar barrels, was dragged 
by a number of men and boys, who yelled like demons, as they 
whirled their locomotive bonfire through the streets. It was 
first taken through a narrow street, known as St. Mary street, 
and principally inhabited by negroes, and distant about one 
square from the groggery of Black Herkles and the home of 
the young woman, mentioned in the previous pages. As the 
car whirled along a shot was fired ; a cry at once arose that 
a white man was shot, and the attention of the mob, was 
directed to a house at the corner of Sixth and St. Mary, kept by 
a black fellow who, was rumored to have a white wife. 
The mob gathered numbers every moment, and a conflict 
ensued, between the white mob and the negroes, who had 
fortified themselves within the California house (a four story 
building) and in the neighbouring tenements and hovels. The 
inmates after a desperate contest were forced to fly; the bar 
was destroyed, and the gas set on fire. In a moment the 
house was in a blaze and the red light flashing against the sky, 
was answered by the State House bell, which summoned the 
engine and hose companies to the scene of action. The Hope, 
the Good Will, the Phcenix, the Vigilant, and other engine 
companies arrived upon the scene, — amid the clamor of the 
riot, while pistol shots broke incessantly on the ear, and the 
flames of burning houses, ascended to the heavens, lighting 
with a red glare the face of the mob, — and attempted to save 
the houses, which were yet untouched by the flames. Their 
efforts were frustrated. The mob took possession of the Hope 
Hose, and ran it up St. Mary street; as for the other com- 
panies, they were greeted at every turn by discharges of fire- 
arms, loaded with buckshot and slugs. Charles Himmelwright, 
a fireman of the Good Will, was shot trough the heart, while 
nobly engaged in the discharge of his duty. He was a young 
and honest man. He fell dead the moment he received the 
shot. Many were wounded, and many killed. It was an 
infernal scene. The faces of the mob reddened by the glare, 
the houses whirling in flames, the streets slippery with blood, 
and a roar like the yells of a thousand tigers let loose upon 
their prey, all combined gave the appearance of a sacked and 
ravaged town, to the District which spreads around Sixth and 
St. Mary street. The rioters and spectators on the streets 
were not the only sufferers. Men and women sheltered 
within their homes, were shot by the stray missiles of the 
cowardly combatants. 



BLACK HERKLES, &0k 31 



CHAPTER VIII. 

Black Herkles — Ophelia — Mr. Jacob Chester — Choloroform — 

The father and son. 

While scenes like these were progressing, and while the troops 
of approaching soldiers was heard, all was quiet as the grave 
in the vicinity of the "groggery" kept by Black Herkles. The 
huts of the court were either deserted or closed; and every 
tenement looked as though it had not been occupied for a 
nnonth, with two exceptions. There was a light in the grog- 
gery of Black Herkles, and in the home of the old woman and 
her daughter. 

Black Herkles was standing at his door, with folded arms 
the light from within playing over one side of his hideous face, 
when footsteps were heard from the further extremity of the 
Court, and a female figure was seen approaching through the 
glass. It was the poor girl, Ophelia Thompson, " the super- 
numerary" on her way to the theatre. With her shawl 
thrown over her shoulders, and her veil drooped over her 
face, she came along with a hesitating step, pausing every 
moment as if to listen to the noise of the conflict which was pro- 
gressing at the distance of not more than two hundred yards. 

She came on ; the light from the groggery shone over her 
tall form ; she passed, when a hand was laid upon her mouth, 
and her arms were pinioned to her side, by an arm that 
encircled her with a grasp of iron. She attempted to 
scream, but in vain. She struggled, but the iron-arm held 
her arms firmly against her sides. Tossing back her head in 
her struggles, she beheld with a horror that no words can 
paint, the black visage of the negro. 

It may be as well to observe that the events of the night had 
in some measure changed the plan of Mr. Jacob Chester and 
the negro. Instead of placing the cab at the corner of the 
Court, they had placed it in a neighbouring street, which 
communicates with the back door of the groggery, by means 
of a narrow alley. Therefore Black Herkles bore the strug- 
gling girl into his bar-room, and from the bar-room into a 
room in the second story, where waited Mr. Jacob Chester, 
anxious to confront his victim, ere he had her conveyed to 
the cab. He designed to have her kept within this room, 
until the riot would reach its height, and the additional con- 
fusion serve to render his passage to a mansion in " the neck," 
(which he had rented for the purpose) near Gray's Ferry, at 
once convenient and safe. The negro ascended the stairs, 
applied a bit of rag wet with some pungent liquid to the lips 



32 CHARLES ANDERSON CHESTER. 

of the girl, and the next moment, tumbled her insensible form 
into the room, where Mr. Jacob Chester waited. The liquid 
was chloroform. 

This accomplished the negro descended, hurried along the 
alley and saw that the cab stood there in the street, according 
to the plan agreed upon. He then returned to his bar-room, 
which he had entirely cleared of its usual customers, an hour 
before. Busying himself behind the bar he was surprised by 
the entrance of the " loafer" in the grey rags, whom he had 
ejected the night previous. In his African dialect, he bade 
the fellow quit his premises, but the *' loafer" whined piteously 
for a glass of whiskey, which Black Herkles at last consented 
to give him. 

As he poured out the liquid poison, the " loafer" leaned over 
the counter, one hand upon a large earthen pitcher supposed 
to contain water. 

" Dars yer whiskey. Take it and trabel," said Herkles, 
pushing the glass toward his customer. The loafer raised his 
glass slowly to his lips, and at the same time kept his hand 
upon the handle of the pitcher, but instead of drinking the 
poison he dashed it in the negro's eyes, at the same time 
hurling the pitcher, with all the force of his arm, at his head. 
Blinded by the liquor, half-stunned by the blow. Black 
Herkles uttered a frightful howl, and attempted to " get at" 
his antagonist across the bar. But a second blow, adminis- 
tered with a " slung-shot" which the " loafer" drew from his 
rags, took the negro in the forehead, and laid him flat upon 
the floor. 

The moment that he fell, the room was filled with " Killers" 
who surrounded their leader, known as the " loafer," or " Dick 
Hellfire," with shouts and cries. They were eleven in num- 
ber, whom Dick had instructed the night before. Drunken, 
furious, and brutal, they were about to beat and mangle the 
prostrate negro, when Dick stopped them with a word. 

" Look here, boys." The devil's delight is up at St. Mary 
street, and we must be busy while the fun lasts. Four of 
you go to the end of the alley, and take care of the cab ; two 
of you guard the front door, and let the rest remain outside, 
on the watch, while I go up stairs. When I whistle all 
come. I'll go up and see the old fellow and his gal." 

He was implicitly obeyed. Four of the Killers hastened 
through the back door; two remained in the bar-room, and 
the rest went out into the Court. Pausing for a moment ere 
he ascended the dark stairway Dick Hellfire wiped from his 
hands the blood which he had received in the conflict, near 
the Uaiitornia House, ^or he had been in uic lincnesi ot £tie 
fight. Then casting a glance toward the prostrate form of 
the negro stretched behind the bar, his forehead covered with 



THE FATHER AND SON. 33 

blood, Dick crept up the stairs and placed his ear against the 
door at the head of the flight. All was still within. Dick 
pushed open the door and entered. By the light of a candle, 
Mr. Jacob Chester, hat and overcoat thrown aside, was con- 
templating the form of the insensible girl, who was stretched 
upon a miserable bed. Her hair fell in disorder about her 
neck; her eyes were closed and her lips parted; she looked 
extremely beautiful, but it was a beauty like death. And over 
her, his bald head shining in the light, stood the aged sinner, 
his eyes fixed upon his unconscious victim, and his mouth 
parting in a salacious grin. The noble form of the poor girl 
was sti-etched before him — in his power, — in a few hours she 
would be safe within his mansion near Gray's Ferry. Thus 
occupied he had not heard the opening of the door, nor was 
he aware of the presence of Dick, until that personage laid a 
hand upon his arm, saying mildly, 
" How d'ye do father." 

The surprise of Mr. Jacob Chester may be imagined. Turn- 
ing he beheld the stalwart figure, clad in rags, which were 
stained with blood. The cap drawn over the brow concealed 
the upper part of the whiskered face. Mr. Jacob could not 
believe his eyes. He started as though he had received a 
musket shot. 

Dick removed his cap. 

" I heard that having become aware of my return from 
Havana, you put a police officer on my track. Here I am. 
Now what do you want with me 1" 

Mr. Jacob Chester grew pale ; he could not speak. He 
gazed at Dick Hellfire, otherwise known as Charles Anderson 
Chester, with eyes that seemed about to fall from their sockets. 
" Come father, it really won't do. You must really give me 
that belt about your waist, or I'll have to be cross with you. 
I've been in rough scenes since you kicked me out of the store, 
and am not disposed to stand on trifles. Strip !" 

Mr. Jacob Chester unbuttoned his vest, and took from 
beneath his shirt a leather belt, which to all appearance, con- 
tained a considerable amount in specie. 

" It's all I have in the world. Take that and I'm a beggar," 
he faltered. Charles took the belt, unlocked it, and having as- 
certained that it contained gold and bank notes, he locked it 
again and fastened it about his waist. As for the old man he 
watched his movements with a stupified gaze. 

"Now I'll just wake the girl and leave you to your medita- 
tions," said Dick alias Charles, and approaching the bed, he 
laid his hand upon the hand of Ophelia Thompson. He started 
as he encountered the touch of that hand. Again he seized 
it, and dropped it, as though its contact had filled him with 



34 CHARLES ANDERSON CHESTER. 

inexpressible terror. When he turned his face towards the 
old man, it was lived with horror. 

" By G — d, old man you're worse than I thought you was!" 
he cried, and staggered to the door, leaving Mr. Jacob Chester 
alone with the dead girl. She had been killed bv the chloroform. 



CHAPTER IX. 

The Stab — Black Herkles at hay — The Killers take signal ven- 
geance — The figure on the house top — The double death. 

Descending the stairway, he felt the belt which encircled his 
waist, in order to assure himself that it was safe, and was 
passing into the bar-room, when he received a violent blow 
upon the breast. He never lived to know the cause of that 
blow. For a large knife had sunk to the hilt in his left breast: 
he was stabbed to the heart, he uttered one groan and fell a 
dead man. And over him, triumphant and chuckling stood 
Black Herkles, the knife dripping in his hand. He wiped the 
blood from his mangled brow, and stamped upon the dead 
body, in the extremity of his rage. 

The cause of the scene is readily explained. An alarm at 
the corner of the street and court, had summoned the Killers 
from the scene, but a rhoment after Charles ascended the 
stairs. Neglecting their posts, they had hurried to join in the 
affray at the street corner. They were only absent a few 
moments. During their absence the negro had recovered 
from the effects of the blow, and seizing a knife, waited for 
Charles, as he heard him descending the stairs. 

When the comrades of " Dick " alias " Charles " returned 
they found the negroes standing in one corner, the bloody 
knife in his right hand, and his foot planted upon the breast of 
the dead man. 

" Come on you dam Killers," he bawled, — " I've stuck your 
bully, and I'm ready for de wust of you !" 

The surprise of the Killers may be imagined. It was not 
vheir intention to fight the infuriated negro. Whispering to- 
gether, they retreated from the room, half of their number 
went round to the back of the groggery, while the other half 
watched the front of the door. That door and the back door 
together with the windows, they closed, fastened and nailed ; 
sending one of their number to the corner of Sixth and Mary 
for reinforcements. In less than fifteen minutes the groggery 
was in a blaze, and by the flames, the faces of a thousand 
combatants were visible. The riot had swelled like a wave 
from the corner of Sixth and Mary to the court, at the corner 



THE DOUBLE DEATH. 35 

of which was situated the groggery of Black Herkles. And 
when the firemen attempted to play upon the burning pile, 
they were beaten back, shot and maimed by the rioters, among 
the most demoniac of whom, were the comrades of Charles 
Anderson Chester. A sound came from the burning house ; it 
was the yell of the negro imprisoned in the flames. 

" There's a man in that house," roared twenty voices. 

"Let him burn," answered the Killers. 

The contest was renewed ; negroes and whites were fighting 
in the narrow court, and the flames, mounting to the roof, 
began to communicate with the adjoining huts. In the midst 
of the scene, a dark and gigantic figure, appeared on the roof 
of the groggery, environed by flames, and bearing the form 
of a woman in his arms. A yell of horror from a thousand 
voices, was heard at the sight. He stood there for a moment, 
and then the roof fell beneath him, and his burden fell like 
lead upon the pavement. 

It was the dead body of Ophelia Thompson. 

As the crowd gave way, one shuddering pervaded every 
heart, I two figures, hastening from opposite directions ap- 
proached the corpse. 

One was the mother of the dead gial ; and the other an old 
man, whose apparel was burnt to cinder, while his face was 
horribly marked by the ravages of fire. It was Mr. Jacob 
Chester, who had escaped through the back window, in time 
to save his life, though his face was horribly deformed. He 
and the old woman, formed the centre of the crowd, and looked 
in silence into the face of the dead girl. 



CHAPTER X. 

The killed, wounded and arrested. 

The riot continued throughout election night. At 6 o'clock, 
on the ensuing morning the military assembled in force in 
Independence Square under command of Gen. Patterson and 
Col. Bohlen. Their approach to the ground, became known, and 
the Killers, rendered cowardly by the death of their leader, 
slunk to their den. The following is a list of the killed and 
wounded : — 

KiLLEp. — Charles Himmelwright, white, shot through the 
head. 

Colored man, unknown, at the hospital. 

Ophelia Thompson, white. 

Wounded. — Mrs. Smith, residing in Sixth street, above 
South, shot through the head. 



36 CHARLES ANDERSON CHESTER. 

Charles Westerhood, residing near the corner 13th and Race 
streets, thigh fractured by a ball. 

Jeremiah M'Shane, shot in the temple, not expected to live. 

Jacob Chester, burnt. 

Wm. Coleman, shot in the thigh and leg. 

Charles Shearer, shot in the leg. 

Edward Matthews, shot in two places, the breast and ribs, 
mortally wounded. 

Geo. Williams, shot in the breast. 

Augustus Green, shot in the hand and leg. 

John Hall, wounded in the neck and arm. 

R. Rundel, colored, wounded in the last riot this mornmg. 

Chas. Anderson, colored, shot in the thigh and arm, in the 
last conflict. 

Here are only a part however of the killed and wounded. 

The following persons were arrested: George Hosey, a 
powerful negro, formerly a dog-catcher. He was arrested 
after a powerful resistance: Wm. Shinkle; James Murphy; 
John McVey; Daniel Roberts; John Thompson; James De- 
vine; Wm. Jones; John Fritzimmons; Joseph Walker; Alex. 
Cambry; Wm. Simpson; Frank. C. Riley; James Jones; and 
Jacob Chester, all white. Also Alex. Wilson, Jacob Perkins, 
coloured. 

Thus ended one of the most terrible riots which ever dis- 
graced a civilized city. The facts in the preceding narrative 
are based upon the written statements of James Jones, now a 
convict in the Penitentiary and the admissions of Mr. Jacob 
Chester, who did not long survive the wounds which he receiv- 
ed on election night. James Jones is penitent, and states that 
he was thrown into the matter by Charles Chester, the 
leader of the Killers. 

As for Charles, his body was found the second day of the 
riot, amid the cinders of the demolished groggery. The belt 
of money about his waist, although scorched by the flame was 
not altogether destroyed. It fell into the hands of a worthy 
police officer, who would have kept it to himself had he not 
been obliged to buy himself out of the hands of justice. 

The funerals of the victims of the riot were attended by a 
vast body of citizens, particularly that of the brave Charles 
Himmelwright, who so nobly fell in the discharge of his duty, 
shot by the murderous pistols of the Killers. 

That terrible body of outlaws still exists in a broken state, 
and no one knows how soon their misdeeds may again shock 
the moral sense of the world. The youth of our land should 
learn wisdom from the fate of Charles Anderson Chester, the 
Leader of the Killers. 

THE END. 



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